A sharp needle with a length of thread through its eye pierced the cloth over and over, all along its two ends where it had been tied to the rods. More suffering? The hands held the cloth close, so the threads endured in silence. But Lina began to feel the chill of fear once again. She had not felt this way for a long time now. What else was to come? Well, whatever it was, it would be worth it. The gentle face seemed to believe it, so Lina believed it.
The cloth was plunged into water, hot this time. It was beaten and rubbed with some kind of powder, then put into new water and beaten some more. Finally it was twisted and wrung, stretched out, and hung over some bushes in the sun. Lina and the other threads, which had shivered and huddled even more tightly to each other, relaxed in the warm, familiar light. It was better than a dark shelf, anyway!
They were left for a long time. Lina had learned to simply enjoy what there was to enjoy. The sun was woarming and whitening the cloth. The pale gold was fading away, and the linen grew whiter and whiter. Then hands turned them from time to time so they would all whiten evenly.
To be continued. . .
Repairing the Breach,
Debbonnaire
No comments:
Post a Comment